Go Into The Light
by Fyrie
Summary: Someone observes Angel fighting under the pier, during "Into the Dark" (Season 1)


Author: Fyre 

Author: Fyre   
Rating: PG-16   
Spoilers: "In the Dark"   
Summary: Someone observes Angel fighting Marcus beneath the pier...and it goes from there...   
Notes: I had been toying with this idea for a while. It didn't wuite work out like I planned, but I still like it :-)   
Improv: plush -- broken -- bewilder - moonlight  


______________________________________________________________________

  
  
He plunges into the water, heedless of the flames, even though we both know he can feel them on his broken flesh. The greeny-blue waves swallow him entirely, the silty clouds billowing, blinding him in his struggle for a foot hold.   
  
I wonder how he would fare, if he were at full strength.   
  
After all, that Marcus creature – he did a damn good job of torturing the living hell out of the pathetic shell of a vampire.   
  
"What are you gonna do? Kill me?" You can only imagine what kind of atrocities he left behind, his leer as evil as any I've ever seen.   
  
And I've seen a lot.   
  
"Well, after all…I promised…" There's the confident Angel the Slayer knows and loves. This should be one helluva fight.   
  
Blows are exchanged and the Soul Man is fighting with increasing strength…not surprising when he has a bored demon waiting in his tag team.   
  
Nice work, Marcus. Get him pissed. It's not easily done, but this is Soulboy, the Wonder Vamp, ready and willing to fight for the cause of truth and justice...and light, if he gets hold of that rather intriguing little gem on your finger.   
  
The Pacific slaps at the two vampires, weighty sand kicked up by their pounding feet, the fight a good one. There are two elements it's a nightmare to fight in: sand and water. Sand because you can just sink into it and water, because it pulls you down, weights you. So it is a nice, violent battle going on.   
  
Well, a good one, considering who's doing the fighting.   
  
"You never cracked me, Marcus." A massive board smashes across the torture demon's back and he falls, trips and lands in the waves. "You tried, and you failed." On his feet again, he's grabbed, shifted and I know what's coming. I watch with bated breath...in a manner of speaking.   
  
I'll give Soulboy credit. He knows what he's doing, that broken spar poking through Marcus' chest, the grin never leaving his face. Now, that is a true vampire. Arrogant, even in the face of impending doom. Brave, very brave.   
  
Brave, but damn stupid.   
  
Putting the ring somewhere it can be pulled off by a Souled Vampire with a wish to save the world was equally dumb. Sometimes, you just gotta love having brains.   
  
"Now that," The boy wonder's smugness is contagious, his eyes focused on the skewered demon who pissed him off so much all day but Marcus just leers, as if unaware of the fatal position he's got himself in. "That's gotta be torture."   
  
All he receives is a condescending look. Ah, Marcus, Marcus, Marcus...you're standing, a spar through your chest, smirking at a vampire who hates you more than his cursed soul, but you're letting him near your ring-hand.   
  
See.   
  
You're only safe as long as you have the ring on your finger.   
  
Pity you don't have any fingers left now. They'll all be drifting somewhere in the vast expanse of the ocean within a matter of seconds, your final scream lost in the whistle of the wind between the broken planks of the pier.   
  
Don't be too upset about all this, buddy. I hate to tell you, but the sunlight...it really did nothing for your complexion.   
  
So dry and flaky.   
  
And I *really* have been spending far too much time with the cheerleader or secretary or actress or whatever she's calling herself these days. And – to be brutally honest – she's really not such bad company, once you get passed the dumb airhead facade.   
  
But now, now I don't need to be thinking about her. Right now, something far more important is happening around me.   
  
He's shaking – big, bad, bicentennial vampire and he's shaking because of a tiny trinket, the flickering glint of turquoise catching the light. I know I would probably be doing exactly the same thing, if it were me.   
  
The Gem of Amarra.   
  
And it's in the hands of Angelus.   
  
Maybe that's why he takes so long to slide it slowly onto his finger. Because of his soulless personality...who would be in possesion of the ring if he ever got a happy again. Now, there's a delightful thought.   
  
But he's ready.   
  
Ready to face the sun for the first time in two and a half centuries, stepping out from the sheltered alcove of the pier, sand shifting beneath his feet, warm, like silk. It's a different colour, not silvery like it always was in the moonlight…this could take some getting used to.   
  
The light expands, reaches up to caress him with golden fingers. Damn, I'm getting poetic in my old age, but that's what it feels like. Warming little hands of light running across his pale skin that's peeking through the shirt that Marcus and William destroyed.   
  
God...it's so bright...   
  
This is what he...what I've been missing all this time.   
  
For once, the git and I agree.   
  
For once, both our voices whisper and awe-filled. "Wow."   
  
A clear, cloudless sky is a shade I've only seen on T.V. or in those damn paintings he likes so much, bluer than I can recall ever seeing anything. I urge him to spin around, feel the warmth, but he's intoxicated, high on the beauty of it all.   
  
"Are you all right?" Cordelia's voice breaks into his joy. I can only picture those brown eyes dancing with pleasure. He waves a hand, to suggest he's okay, he's speechless, he's about to float off on some kinda cloud.   
  
"Fine…" His attention catches for a moment, the flash of reddish- blonde spiked hair emerging in his line of sight. Thanks for the help, man. You were key."   
  
Then, he's dopily grinning again, wandering a few steps on the sand, almost like he's in a blissful daydream, or something.   
  
Reminds me of my time in Sunnydale, when I had a run in with a junkie. God, those guys were heaven, had you floating on a blissed- out haze for hours.   
  
"You're…incredibley pale." The werewolf comments. He manages to look and sound strangely hollow, in spite of his obvious bewilderment. Strange kid. Probably more to him than meets the eye. No one can be that quiet all the time.   
  
Yeah, kid. He's been dead for a good two hundred and more years. Do you know what kind of factor of sun block that means? I pause, wait for the Soulman's chastising voice, but nothing comes. He really is out of it.   
  
And as far I as I remember, even after the son of a bitch got us stuck in hell, there has only been one time...   
  
But surely, I wouldn't be that lucky?   


****

  
  
Damn, it's good to be back!   
  
And he still had my leather pants hoarded away in his closet, where he thought none of his little poodles would find them.   
  
"Hey, Cordy." The brunette is watching me, standing at the top of the stairs, the model of classic elegance, her perfectly applied make- up emphasising those dark eyes of hers. She really is a stunner. "What do you think? Leather or...leather?"   
  
She shakes her head. "What is the deal with vampires and leather?" She asks. Walking down the steps, she crosses her arms over her breasts. "Dead human wearing dead cow…I don't see what the deal is with that."   
  
"We don't look good in taffeta." I say, tossing one of the two pairs of black pants over the back of the sofa. My favourite, blood- red silk shirt is waiting, hanging over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Or chenille."   
  
"I bet." Making her way across the room, she sits down facing me, crossing her legs delicately at the knee. "Always black and red...you ever thought about trying beige or lilac some time?" I let one eyebrow inch skywards. "Okay, okay! Geez! It was just a suggestion!"   
  
"Stressed much?" I pull my shirt on, not daring to look at her for fear of laughing. She is one helluva girl, with a tongue sharp enough to decapitate any vamp...even one as big and hideous as Balthasar was.   
  
Plus, she was never *really* scared of me, the last time I showed up. Now, when I vamp, it's no big for her. Regular, every day occurrence. Soulboy was given to the odd temper tantrum, so she knew my true face even before I came back the first time.   
  
Her neatly plucked eyebrow rises slightly when I turn to face her, still fastening the buttons of the shirt. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"   
  
It's hard to hold in a smile now. "I thought I would take Kate out for a bite to eat." I reply. She pulls a face. She never did like the blonde bitch I had the nauseating stupidity to fawn over when Soulboy was in residence.   
  
"What is it with you and blondes?"   
  
I smirk. "None of them were natural." I say. "I always handle brunettes better."   
  
Hands on the table, she pushes herself to her feet easily. "Promises, promises." She says. She takes a step towards me, places her hands over my own and fastening the remaining buttons, her fingers nimble, her palms fleetingly brushing my chest.   
  
Seemingly of their own volition, my hands move round and grab that pretty ass of hers, pulling her hard against my body, her eyes widening in surprise. I smirk again, can't help it. I feel smug and in control and my mouth has this uncontrollable urge to turn up at one side.   
  
"Pushy, much?" She remarks boredly. Pressing her hands flat on my chest, she takes a step back from me and frowns. "Look…Dammit, Angel! You creased my shirt." She gestures to the plush material that conceals her delectable body from my eyes.   
  
"I'm behaving." I try and feign an indignant pout, as she smooths her silk-like shirt down over her curves. Her hands linger caressingly over her breasts a moment longer than they should, but I let it pass, keeping my attention on her dark eyes.   
  
She nods, tosses her hair over her slender shoulder. "You got the ring on?" She enquired, making her way to the kitchen and pouring herself a drink.   
  
"As always." There's only one occasion that required me to remove that little gem. As for the rest of the time, it's concealed, safe and hidden on another… `finger', as it has been in the three days since I started feeling like myself again. "Well…looks like I'm ready…"   
  
The familiar leather brushes over my buttocks seductively. She does know why vampires love leather. It's the feel of it. It feels so flagrantly sexual…plus, wearing the skin of another living thing is twisted in its own way.   
  
Trailing me to the elevator, she eyes me thoughtfully. "You know, a tan would look really good on you." She states. "Dark eyes, dark hair and pale skin were in last year, but I think tans are coming back."   
  
"I'll bear that in mind, when I'm cruising for chicks in the Angel- Mobile." I wink at her, raise a small chuckle. Then the scent hits me. "Cordelia?" She looks at me in mock-innocence. "What have you been up to?"   
  
"Nothing!" I let my eyes burn into molten gold, not in anger, but in amusement. This girl was definitely a prime catch. "I…kinda got hungry…"   
  
Her pretty face shifts, exquisitely beautiful in its demonic planes as she grabs my shirt and kisses me, her fangs slicing my tongue open, our blood mingling on our lips. One of her hand slides up my back, gripping my neck.   
  
Tutting, I draw back, prodding the corpse on the floor with my toe. "Hungry is all very well, lover." I remind her. "But killing other members of staff was definitely not on the agenda."   
  
She pouts prettily, her face returning to the more familiar, human planes. "You wouldn't let me have Kate." She crosses her arms, leaving her mug of chilled blood on the desk. "I had to have something…but he tasted funny."   
  
"Mixed-breed." I smile. Already, she can tell when something is awry in her meals. "I have to go now, lover. Kate's expecting me and I can't leave Los Angeles without taking her out for dinner this last time."   
  
Reaching up, she strokes her bloody lips across my own. "See you later, daddy." I haven't been called that by anyone but Drusilla, but it feels so much more perverted and good coming from my sweet Cordy's lips. "Try not to get burned."   
  
"I'll be careful, baby." Using such paternal enddearments make me grin. I feel like some kind of twisted pervert for the first time in years and it feels *so* damn good. Who gives a rat's ass about the Slayer, when I've got my little daughter to warm my bed for me?   
  
She shies back from the door as I step into the sunlight, lifting by wrap-around shades and sliding them on with a practised ease that's unnerving. How the hell did I learn to put on shades so smoothly? I've been sun-free for so long.   
  
"You look good." She retrieves her mug, winking at me.   
  
"As always." I flash her my best predator's grin. "Be ready to leave when I get back, okay?" She nods. We've been plotting and planning since she woke up and I was impressed to find that she was as blood-thirsty as I ever was.   
  
First, in our bold and impressively demonic plan, we head to Sunnyhell and kill ourselves a pretty, bitty Slayer, then, I'm going to find my boy and I'm going to show him just how grateful I am for getting this ring for me.   
  
Yessir, it's gonna be fun and games all round.   



End file.
